


hello (i'm here, i'm waiting)

by orphan_account



Series: tumblr prompts [9]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Cute Beginnings, Friendship & Romance, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 16:53:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11257011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Go on,” Gene finds himself saying, ducking his head, “we got this, trooper.”“At least let me help you get this back to the med tent, Doc.”Spina shrugs, “suit yourself, Chuck.”





	hello (i'm here, i'm waiting)

**Author's Note:**

> ruinsrebuilt said: oooh okay last one *whispers* remember what we talked about in regards to *whispers even softer* grant/roe *winks*
> 
> sorry for any typos (and sorry this took me so long to write ahhh)
> 
> title from [el scorcho by weezer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=okthJIVbi6g)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The first friendly face Gene acquaints himself with is Spina. There are a handful of other medics from different companies who are in their specialized training courses and drills with them, but Spina’s rumbling low under his breath about Sobel, and that’s the first time his composure breaks into a smile. Spina catches it out of the corner of his eye and says, “hey, it’s Roe, right?”

“Eugene Roe,” Gene affirms.

“Right. Gene, look—” And then Spina’s throwing an arm around his shoulders and they’re trudging towards the mess hall together. The talking is half-static and half-encompassing because Gene’s never been much for making conversation with a boy he didn’t know from the bayou, but Spina’s seeming like a good man—and a good friend, too.

“Chuck! Hey—” Gene startles when they enter the mess; Spina is waving over at one of the non-coms, and Gene recognizes the man who waves back as Grant.

It’s entirely possible that the back his neck heats up, and he’s sure as hell his ears might be turning pink, but he doesn’t say anything as Spina drags Gene to a table that’s directly behind Grant’s.

“Grant,” the sergeant says when he introduces himself.

“Eugene Roe. Medic,” Gene returns.

Grant smiles: “Good to meet you, Doc.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Weeks later, Gene and Spina are checking their equipment after a drill while Easy makes their way off base in doubles, triples, and intersecting groups; they trickle out like a single line of rainwater blazing a slow trail down a dusty window. Their passes were revoked when Sobel told them they ought to _check and recheck_ their supplies, since, on the drill, Gene had lost his pack somewhere along the way. Malarkey, luckily, had picked it up before the drill had ended, but, of course, that wouldn’t get either medic off the hook.

Imitating Gene, Spina said, “we ought’a—”

Stubbing out his cigarette, Gene shakes his head and huffs out a breath of laughter.

And then: “Spina! Roe!” Both medics look up. Chuck Grant is headed straight for them. “You need some help with that?” he stops dead-center between the crates of bandages and morphine they were ordered to sort through and organize. Roe peers around him and sees Liebgott waving him off, heading out of the base with Powers. Which is strange—

“Go on,” Gene finds himself saying, ducking his head, “we got this, trooper.”

“At least let me help you get this back to the med tent, Doc.”

Spina shrugs, “suit yourself, Chuck.”

When they stand up to move the crates, Grant takes the first two crates Gene picks up right out of his hands. “I got this, Gene,” Grant says, like it’s nothing, but Gene can feel his heart picking up an unsteady beat under skin and bone, and he has to swallow down the dust gathering behind his teeth. Grant asks Spina, “where to?”

“Put everything in the back behind the desk.” They started their trek across the grass and gravel paths.

Somehow, when they were walking back towards the barracks sometime later, Spina was yawning, several strides ahead of them, and Grant had fallen into step beside Gene. Not saying anything, their shoulders a comfortable distance apart but not too far to suggest any kind of total unfamiliarity associated with the other.

It’s nice, Gene thinks, smiling to himself under the darkening sky.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
